Wednesday, April 27, 2005|
Countdown to Carpet The General's working right now, which is her way of helping us. It's so much quieter when she's not around. Without interruptions of, "I need a new shirt, what are you going to do about it?" we can think thoughts all the way through. That is, if we have complete thoughts. We're pretty tired at the end of the day after all this real work.  The General taking orders The Vegan's working tonight too, but not until later. He's outside washing his car. It looks a completely different color. Even with the crash dings, it looks nicer. He taped and covered the smashed brake light, making his car look like someone other than a Vegan skateboarder owns it. The Vegan, I noticed, seems to be more interested in things, particularly concerning Charlie and me. With Charlie home all day working on the kitchen, he isn't complaining like the General is, saying, "Why isn't this done yet?" Instead, he watches and asks questions. He knew without asking not to step on the newly-laid tile. When the cat's six pounds of fur trotted across the tile, the Vegan freaked out and shooed him away, worried it might ruin Charlie's work. 
Charlie Tiling "Where exactly can I step?" the Vegan asked. "I want to make some tea." That's another thing: the Vegan's drinking hot tea. He went to the store, bought a variety of green and peach teas, and hid them all from his sister. We're already almost out of sugar, so I know he hasn't completely given up on youthful behaviors. "You can step on everything I did yesterday," Charlie told him. The Vegan picked up the painter's tape and made a boundary line so everyone, even the cat, would know where to step.  Me Respecting the Vegan's Boundaries (Hey Neva, see what I'm wearing on my wrist?) "He really cares," Charlie told me quietly. "He's really stressed," I said. "He's in his last month of High School. Weren't you stressed then? His brothers didn't graduate so he's blazing a new non-loser trail for himself. What he does next affects the rest of his life. I freaked out in my last month of High School. College, too." "He's only stressed when the General's around." "She's the younger sister," I said. "That's her job: to help him vent. If she wasn't around bothering him, his stress would just build up."  The Vegan's so excited he's seeing the Shins, he took this photo (and I took it from him) The Vegan runs off to work early and stays as long as they need him. The General returned home from her job first, happy the Vegan was gone so she could get on his computer and chat with her friends without us anywhere near. I knew I'd only have until the Vegan returned to do anything on my laptop before the General took over. I opened it up and noticed the new, even more disgusting desktop background. She and the Vegan are in a competition involving my laptop. Everytime I look, I have a new background. When the Vegan changes it, I have a cool collage of skateboarders and skateboarding equipment ads. When the General changes it, I have a picture of a fat transvestite. "Seen your background?" she'll ask if I don't react. "I've seen my share of crazy internet pictures," I say. "How are you finding such good ones?" "Google 'fat' and 'transvestite,'" she says. I don't think I was this interested in transvestites when I was a sophomore. That came much later. The Vegan came home and I assumed he'd get angry at her for messing up his room. She has a gift that way. She can be somewhere for five minutes and within that time she's filled the space with food debris, papers, candy wrappers, half-filled pop cans which are wonderful ant-magnets by the way, and sticky fingerprints everywhere you don't want sticky fingerprints. Instead, the Vegan went upstairs to his room, saw her on his computer, and came back downstairs calmly. He stood around us like he wanted to hang out. What eighteen year-old wants to share with his parents? "How was work?" Charlie asked. "Good. I took all the orders and filled most of them, I was so fast. When nobody was around, I refilled all the drive-through stuff which I don't have to do but it was empty. I did all the pre-closing stuff, too, which is also somebody else's job but I did it anyway. It was fun." Is this the same kid who, just this morning, drove off to school with his tires screetching, swearing, refusing to give his sister a ride? What happened between then and now? Then There's My Job
When your boss is your husband's best friend, you have one big advantage: you
know how he thinks. I wouldn't have worked for this guy if I didn't like
the way he thinks. He's driven, but calm and the opposite of me.
Okay, maybe I'm driven, but not consistently. I'm certainly not
calm. I'm pretending I am, though.
Now I’m thinking about
engine problems, worrying about my boss and his flight. I can’t wait to get back to work, whatever
that may be. My boss has five
businesses, six now, all having to do with cars.
I’ve learned more about cars in the past week than six years of living
with Charlie, if you can believe it.
I think I found the
perfect job for me since I don’t have to make up excuses to take a tiling day. (Don't ask about pay just yet.) I wonder what it is I’ll be doing a year from now? I told my boss when he hired me, “I don’t
know crap about cars.” He didn't seem to care.
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Last update: 5/3/2005; 10:54:16 PM .
